


Three Things About Donna's Mercedes

by implicated2



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Cars, D/s, Established Relationship, F/F, Obedience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/implicated2/pseuds/implicated2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>There's only one thing better than Donna's Mercedes, and that's Donna's Mercedes with someone inside who she wants to make pay.</em>
</p>
<p>For the Kink Bingo square <strong>obedience/disobedience</strong>. Written as part of the Ten in Ten Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Things About Donna's Mercedes

“It's just a car,” Donna says, repeating April's words with a cold stare.

April, backed up against the side of Donna's Mercedes, wriggles against the knee Donna's got pressed between her legs. “Yeah,” she says, blushing. Her arms are still above her head, leaning against the window she thumped her fists against a moment earlier, clearly failing to understand that this car is Donna's baby. Or, more likely, understanding it perfectly well and hoping for a punishment. “Big hunk of metal. So?”

Oh, no. You do not call the Mercedes a big hunk of metal. Donna reaches into her left-hand pocket for her keys and unlocks the doors with the remote. “So, I'm going to show you why you're wrong,” she hisses into April's ear. 

With a few quick swipes of her arms, Donna shoves April out of the way of the passenger-side back door, opens the door, and pushes April into the car, letting the door close behind her. She clicks the locks closed by remote. The back door locks are child-proof; April will be stuck there unless she climbs into the front. Which she'd better not.

“Hey!” Donna hears April yell from inside the car. “Hey! Are you kidnapping me?”

Donna ignores her. She makes her way slowly to the driver's seat, caressing the car's smooth, silver exterior as she goes. There's only one thing better than Donna's Mercedes, and that's Donna's Mercedes with someone inside who she wants to make pay.

Donna unlocks the driver side door and lets herself in. The leather-covered seat slides sweetly against her skin when she sits, the headrest buttery-soft. She tilts the rearview mirror until she can see April in the back seat, arms crossed defiantly. Damned if Donna's going to strain her neck turning around to look.

“First thing about the Mercedes,” Donna says, eyeing April in the mirror until April makes eye contact. “Tinted windows.”

“Okay,” April says, looking uncertain.

“Which means, one, no one can see anything I do to you.” April's eyes widen at that, and Donna enjoys the swell of power that hits her right in the chest. “And two, you'd better get naked.”

“Ugh,” April scoffs, keeping her arms crossed.

Donna adjusts the mirror again. “Excuse me?” She looks pointedly back at April until April blushes and looks away. 

“Yeah, okay,” April says, and starts unbuttoning her flannel shirt.

Donna doesn't know what she likes better about making April undress: the way April looks naked, or the way she gets flustered when Donna looks at her. “Fold your clothes and put 'em in the front,” Donna instructs, nodding toward the passenger seat. She's not about to let April make a mess in the Mercedes.

“Fine.” April shrugs the flannel off one shoulder, then the next, then folds it into a square. “Here.” She shoves the folded shirt towards Donna, and Donna can see her nipples poking through her thin, white undershirt.

“I said _fold them and put them in the front_ ,” Donna repeats, in a voice that brooks no opposition. 

April complies, stripping off each remaining garment and placing what she's removed into a neat pile.

“That's better,” Donna says. April sits back down, placing her hands behind her head without being told, and Donna tilts the mirror to look at April's tits, then her belly, then the soft tuft of hair around her cunt. This is their arrangement: Donna gives the orders, April does as she's told, and whatever April does, Donna gets to enjoy. 

“Second thing about the Mercedes,” Donna says, when she's had her fill of looking. “Leather interior.”

“Okay,” April says again.

“I don't think you appreciate the leather interior,” Donna says slowly, tilting the mirror back up to April's face. “Touch it.”

April brings her hand down and runs it over the seat beside her. “Feels like a seat,” she says, unimpressed.

“Feels like the best seat you ever touched,” Donna corrects her. “But if you don't have anything to say about it, you can just lick that seat clean for me.” The seat's already clean, but Donna likes the image of April on her knees, her face pressed against the leather.

“Ew,” April says, still feeling the seat with her hand.

Donna raises one eyebrow dangerously. “I know you didn't just say 'ew' about my Mercedes.”

April knows when to back down. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, you are,” Donna says, savoring the way April seems afraid of her. “Now do it.”

It takes April a minute or two to get situated, and Donna watches her struggle to fit her legs in the well below the back seat. Finally, she bends down, slowly lowering her head, until her lips press against the crease where the back rest meets the seat. Donna feels her own mouth grow dry. The car is abruptly silent.

Well, almost silent. April lifts her head with a small sucking sound, then lowers herself again, mouth open, running her tongue along the leather from the edge of the seat to the back of it. Then she looks back at Donna in the mirror, and when their eyes meet, there's a spark of electricity so sudden and explosive, Donna's half-surprised the roof doesn't blow off the car. “Keep going,” she tells April, her voice wavering.

April nods, lowering her mouth to the seat again. She licks one new line, then another, and Donna watches the bare skin of April's back moving along the seat, her hair falling messily over her shoulder.

By the time April's covered the whole seat, both she and Donna are breathless. “What's the third thing,” April asks, “about the Mercedes?” She lifts herself up to a sitting position and looks up at Donna in the rearview.

Donna smirks at her. “The third thing about the Mercedes,” she says, “is I keep my Hitachi in the glove compartment.”

April gives a bark of a laugh. “Seriously?”

“You never know when you might need it.” Or when you might have a brat of an ex-intern in your back seat begging to be taught a lesson. 

April's gaze drifts toward the glove compartment. “Well,” she says, “could I use it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Donna says, giving April her best skeptical look. “My Hitachi is strictly reserved for people who appreciate my car.”

“I appreciate your car,” April says. “It's shiny. And the seat doesn't even taste weird, really.”

Donna snorts. That's probably the best compliment the Mercedes is going to get out of April. “It's also reserved for people who let me watch while they use it.”

April looks away shyly. “Yeah, okay,” she says. “Whatever.”

“And,” Donna adds with a smile, “who do as they're told without saying 'whatever.'”

“Okay,” April says. “I can do that.”

“Glad to hear it,” Donna answers, reaching into the glove compartment. She hands the toy back to April, then adjusts the mirror to look her straight in the eye. “Now, show me something good.”


End file.
